


petal by petal, the whole vine falls

by Nerd_by_Definition



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Pre-Slash, Unresolved Sexual Tension, first touch soulmate tattoos, hand-holding, jaydick-flashfic: confrontation, of the flower/vine variety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29774988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_by_Definition/pseuds/Nerd_by_Definition
Summary: You are cordially invited to the hand-fasting of Prince Richard of House Wayne and Prince Jason of House al Ghul.It's the "Arranged marriage soulmate handholding royalty AU" the server asked for.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Donna Troy, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Roy Harper & Jason Todd
Comments: 25
Kudos: 120
Collections: Jaydick Flash Fanwork Challenge





	petal by petal, the whole vine falls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mlim8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlim8/gifts), [anoncitomikolino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoncitomikolino/gifts), [fourhorsemen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourhorsemen/gifts).



> Thank you Cherry, horsey, and Mel for building the foundation for such an interesting prompt (the soulmate vine tattoos, the hand-fasting, the disgruntled royal arrangement, etc.) I hope I did it justice. 
> 
> (By that I mean: I tried, please accept my offerings)
> 
> Check out Mel’s lovely art for this 🥺💕  
> [Mel’s Art](https://mlim8.tumblr.com/post/644753068611796992/petal-by-petal-the-whole-vine-falls)

Dick skimmed his fork through the pile of food on his plate as he watched the bustling servants set up decorations for the ceremony that was to take place that evening. A hand-fasting ceremony of all things. A promise of marriage in a year’s time between two poor souls who’ve never met before. _His ceremony_. His grip tightened on the utensil at the thought.

Seemingly overnight, the Great Hall had exploded with the clashing colors of House Wayne and House al Ghul in the form of ribbons, tapestries, roses, daffodils, hyacinths, and so many other flowers Dick could barely remember the name of. Gifts already lined the empty tables from well-wishers unable to attend this momentous event and with each new bundle brought in, his heartbeat quickened.

He understood the significance of this union after Bruce’s failure to fulfill _his_ oath to princess Talia all those years ago, but it still felt like a punishment he didn’t deserve. It was tradition that after a year of hand-fasting a couple would marry unless a soulmate bond emerged elsewhere. Even then, sometimes arranged marriages continued regardless of a bond when it came to the aristocracy. So Bruce’s slight against Talia, with no soul bond in sight for either, was unheard of. Tensions had been fraught between Gotham and Nanda Parbat ever since and Dick’s hand-fasting to the al Ghul prince was considered recompense for this error.

A prince he’d only heard mentioned in the gruesome tales passed between soldiers in frightened whispers. A demon disguised as a boy taken in after a tragedy of his own making struck him an orphan in a foreign land. A boy denied his place as heir to the throne, but trained to be one of their most deadly warriors to appease him. A man rumored to bathe in the blood of his victims after ruthlessly torturing those deemed enemies of the state of Nanda Parbat, evidenced by the dark red of the hooded cloak he always wore.

Dick dismissed the outlandish stories as nonsense, but he knew from countless small council meetings within Bruce’s secret chambers that prince Jason al Ghul of Nanda Parbat was a threat. A threat to be monitored closely when within the walls of Gotham. Unfortunately, Dick never thought “close” would mean “marriage.”

Glancing at the food on his plate, Dick felt bile rise into his throat. He couldn’t stomach the idea that he’d be betrothed this time tomorrow to anyone so dangerous, let alone someone who was most assuredly _not_ his soulmate. How could a man with such a reputation as the cold-blooded demon “Red Hood” ever be his match?

Shaking his head with disgust, Dick abandoned his unfinished meal and abruptly ran into his father, the man responsible for all of Dick’s woes at the moment, as he came to inspect the preparations.

A cold tension snapped into place as the two stared each other down. He had planned to just leave rather than engage in another petty argument, but his agitation from moments ago hadn’t dissipated and his unrepentant father was the perfect target.

“ _Your Majesty_ ,” Dick sneered. “What do you think of the colors?” He waved a hand to the clashing blues, reds, greens, and yellows scattered throughout the room without taking his eyes off of Bruce. “It makes even _my_ eyes sore, personally. No wonder you didn’t want to join houses before.”

Bruce’s eye twitched in response but he remained silent, much to Dick’s irritation. No other words were spoken. What more could be said? Their relationship was hanging by a thread after the countless hours they’ve spent arguing about the arrangement. All that was left was Bruce’s feigned indifference and Dick’s biting jabs.

“Father, have we decided which wing they’ll stay in? I’m finishing up my welcome notes-” Tim rattled on as he followed his adopted father into the Great Hall with a list nearly as tall as him.

He sighed deeply at the scene he just interrupted, receiving no immediate answer. Prince Timothy was a fellow orphan-turned-prince by the lonely King of Gotham many years ago, but he never expected such an honor would come with so much familial drama.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready, Dick? They should be here any moment!” Tim warned quietly.

Shaking his tightly coiled fists, Dick grunted as he stormed out of the room rather than taunt Bruce further. Father and son watched despondently as the disgruntled prince headed down the hall to the stables rather than up the stairs to his bedroom. Rubbing his forehead, Bruce waved for a servant to pass on a message.

“Tell Troy to follow him if he leaves the palace gates, please.” Even the servant felt a wave of pity at the defeat in His majesty’s voice, before they nodded and scuttled away.

Tim laid a hand on the king’s arm in gentle comfort. “He’ll come around, father. Dick always puts up a fuss when it’s something he doesn’t want to do, but he knows as much as I do that it’s what’s right for the kingdom. For the people.”

Bruce only grunted in response as he left to begin his inspections.

~~~

“This place is as shitty as I remember it,” Jason muttered to his red-haired companion as they rode into the city. Roy, Jason’s oldest and closest friend, coughed to hide his laughter as Talia glared at them both from the carriage window.

“We’re almost there, your royal highness. It shouldn’t be long now!” Roy groveled to save his hide. Now it was Jason’s turn to stifle a smile as Talia rolled her eyes at him instead of responding.

Careful to go unseen by the other bodyguards, Roy kicked at Jason’s feet in retaliation. He was lucky Jason found his company so bearable.

“What do you mean ‘remember’? Have you been here before?” He whispered when Jason rode closer. They never let their eyes wander from the possible dangers lurking among the crowded stalls and streets as they talked, but both soldiers had many years of experience in such communication. The streets were quiet for now, but the eyes that watched them enter were distrustful. One boy even puffed up his chest with a huff when he caught Jason’s eye. Yes, Gotham never changed.

Jason rolled his shoulders stiffly, a tell that he was reluctant to indulge Roy in this secret. After many years of hardship and training, there was very little anyone could ever get Jason to say about himself. To most, he appeared ruthless and cold because of this penchant for silence; a façade he cultivated to protect himself from the evils of the world. Evils he knew firsthand.

“It was a long time ago…” he tightened the grip on his sword. “I never wanted to come back.”  
Roy nodded solemnly as his friend and prince rode ahead of him to check with the other guards.

Jason went through the motions as he worked but his mind raced with unease. This unexpected hand-fast was less than ideal, but not in the ways one would think. After years of al Ghul patronage, he’d sworn his allegiance to the family to do as they wished. His body was not his own when it came to performing services for the royals, most of which involved some sort of violence on their behalf. Even a marriage wasn’t something Jason would ever balk at, if it was his family that ordered it. No, it was not this that had left the man tense and angrier than usual the last few weeks. It was being back in Gotham, a place that took everything from him and discarded him for the vultures. It was the prospect of marrying the imbecile prince who paraded around the city with his phony charity like the careless joke he was ( _all delusional childhood crushed aside_.)

His gloved hands gripped the reins of his horse tightly, making the beast disrupt its gait with agitation. “Whoa, shhh, it’s okay girl. It’s okay,” he whispered gently as he caressed her side.

When she calmed, he looked up to see the imposing gates of the castle in front of them. Shoulders tight, jaw clenched, the reluctant prince galloped ahead of the group to hopefully get the awkward meetings over with.

~~~

“I can’t believe he’s making me do this. Something even HE couldn’t bring himself to do! What a fucking hypocrite!” Dick’s voice carried throughout the stables as he tended to his horse. Perhaps for departure, but his gloved hands shook too much to ride at the moment.

Donna, the only guard capable of putting up with the prince during his wild escapades and violent mood swings, nodded along in silence as he worked. The other stable boys had disappeared when the Prince entered, knowing better than to pamper him when he was in a dark mood like this. Though Dick never liked when people pampered him; he felt like a fraud parading around as royalty every time they did.

 _And he really was a fraud truth be told_ , the dark thoughts whispered endlessly. _How is a circus boy ever meant to shoulder the burden of the throne and not crumble?_

Dick’s sleeves were rolled up with the horse brush in hand as he gestured along with his words. “I mean, the man is one of the most emotionally repressed people I’ve ever met and he expects ME to be the same, to just-just THROW away any CHANCE of happiness for some ‘creepy boogeyman’ to keep the peace?” Despite his mood, Dick carefully tended to his horse while he rants. It certainly wasn’t his horse’s fault that Dick’s love life was being ruined.

Donna snorts at the prince’s description of his mysterious fiancé. “You mean the ‘Demon Prince’ isn’t someone who could make you happy? He sounds like a catch to me.”

He turned baleful eyes on her as she lounged against the stable door, a small smirk gracing her beautiful face. “Then why don’t you marry him, D? I’m sure you could swap war stories to your heart’s content.” He turned back around to pick up the saddle and muttered under his breath, “and save me the headache.”

She laughed as she approached him, firmly taking the saddle from the prince’s hands. “Says the infamous _Nightwing of Gotham_.”

“That’s different. A nickname earned in war is not the same as an assassin who tortures people. I mean, what kind of person could do that? Maybe he isn’t a demon, but if the stories have any inkling of truth then he can’t possibly be human.”

Donna looked unconvinced as Dick sighed deeply; they both knew he was going to give in to his father’s wishes one way or another because it was his duty. He just wasn’t planning to make it easy on him. Rather than continue defending himself, Dick left the stall.

However, as he exited he came face to face with said princely assassin himself. Dressed in mostly black except for the legendary red-hooded cloak billowing behind him, his narrow-eyed look froze Dick to his core.

Donna carefully circled around to lightly step between the two princes as they stared each other down. Teal ice against ocean blue flames. Even the air seemed to burn between them as Dick wondered how much the man overheard. He itched for the dagger hidden in his boots. Even a shovel would make him feel less naked in front of this intense ( _surprisingly attractive_ ) man. He refused to let the sting of shame sink in over being caught bad-mouthing his future fiancé however.

“Jay! Jaybird! How many times have I told you about-” A red-headed man dressed similarly to the foreign prince came rushing into the stables with a hand on his sword. Upon seeing the tense trio, he slowed his pace and eased his hand away from the weapon. “I mean, Your royal highness and...your royal highness...Princess Talia is waiting for us in the courtyard with the others.”

Breathing in once more ( _when did he stop breathing?_ ) Dick shifted into a more regal stance and waved for his coat. A stable hand mysteriously appeared ready with said garment, and Dick nodded his thanks. Jason continued to stare at him with judgmental eyes as he stepped away to discreetly fix himself. With each step back, the air became easier to breathe. The change almost made him feel dizzy.

He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, your highness. I was just tending to my horse.”

“By yourself?” His voice was deep ( _enchanting_ ) and full of doubt.

Dick blushed. “Yes, I have a fondness for the activity.” It seemed they would both just ignore the conversation he had walked in on, then.

A singular eyebrow rose. “Do you not trust the servants to do their jobs? The jobs you employ them for?” Dick looked taken aback. He started sputtering a rebuttal but Jason continued. “Should I trust the horses of my guards and family to your royal stables if even the crown prince doesn’t find those trained in such craft capable enough?”

“The servants in our employ are perfectly capable of handling any steed that comes to the castle, I assure you. I’m here simply because I enjoy doing it myself, sir. Is there something wrong with that?” Dick huffed.

The man was unphased by Dick’s growing irritation as he looked down at him. Damn him for being taller. “So a prince that spends all his time in the stables rather than attending to his people. My what a fine fiancé you make.”

Dick bristled at the insult as the red-headed companion next to Jason rolled his eyes. Donna merely shifted so that, should it come to it, she could restrain the prince from any violent retaliation. Though she might let him get one punch in if this rudeness continued.

“I do not spend all day in the stables, sir. Your false assumptions about me seem in poor taste. I would do anything for my people. I love my people, and they love me.” He left the unspoken _as opposed to you_ hanging in the air. One does not cultivate a reputation like that of the “Red Hood” without instilling fear in those around you. However, Jason merely ignored the silent taunt with a sneer.

“Yes, my mistake. They’ll certainly love you even more when you marry an _inhuman assassin_ , won’t they? Quite the sacrifice you’re making, my dear prince.” He seemed to revel in the echoing silence left in the wake of his words. “Roy, let’s go.” Dick was left speechless as the two departed, handing off their horses to the nervous stable boys.

Donna waited a few moments for Dick to pull himself together, the sting of shame solidifying into a weight lodged deep in his stomach. He felt so off-balance by the whole exchange. By the dismissive and rude nature of the man he was due to hand-fast in mere hours. If he hadn’t been sure before, he knew now that this man could never be his soulmate.

The wave of sadness he’d been holding back for weeks now threatened to break free and consume him but Donna nudged him gently towards the exit with a small smile.

“You know...I’ve never heard someone capable of a biting comeback as harsh as you, my prince.”

He stared aghast at her suggestive eyes. At the implication she was making about their compatibility. And the wave of sadness evaporated into fiery fury.

“Excuse me?!”

~~~

Jason followed Talia and the gangly Wayne prince to their rooms as they stiffly conversed. Every hall they passed was bursting with the al Ghul reds & greens as if to appease the foreign visitors, but it made Jason want to vomit. The gaudiness, the extravagance, the fake mask of joy permeating Gotham reminded him of why he always hated the Waynes. And soon he’d have to call them family.

Roy noticed his sour mood and hung back with him for answers. _That’s all he ever seemed to want from Jason_. His fists clenched at the mean thought.

“Jay, are you alright? What was that all about?” Of course, he’d find fault in Jason’s actions back there. He hadn’t heard the “Golden Boy of Gotham” condemn him as the monster everyone thought him to be. Instead of responding, Jason shrugged him off and quickened his pace.

However, so caught up in the whirlwind of emotions, Jason nearly toppled a poor serving girl as the group turned the corner. She yelped as she lost her footing. With the bundle of eye-catching purple flowers still held in her grasp, the prince deftly caught her small form and set her right.

“Are you alright?” He grunted as she readjusted the bonnet keeping her wild blonde hair in place.

“Damn, sir, you could’ve just asked me nicely for one of these pretty _clematis_ if you wanted one so badly,” she joked lightly without looking up.

The unexpected informality broke through Jason’s haze of frustration and he found himself barking out a laugh that startled the girl. However, her grin fizzled out when she caught sight of the red hood and Jason’s heart sank. How was he ever going to survive in this dreary place of judgmental people?

But the serving girl defied expectations yet again as she curtsied clumsily and handed him a purple ( _clematis, she had said_ ) flower and smirked. “Perhaps nearly bowling someone over _is_ the princely way of asking nicely.”

Jason could only nod, chastised but grinning anyway. “Do accept my apologies miss--”

“Brown. Stephanie Brown.”

“Miss Brown. I was just so entranced by these flowers that I lost all my inhibitions. Thank you.”

She bowed her head once more before hurrying back to work and Jason felt lighter than before. There were some tolerable people in Gotham afterall.

He examined the deep purple petals in his hand, brushed gloved fingers across the soft white and yellow center of the flower, and sighed. It really was beautiful. Beautiful enough to share with a soulmate, vines and colors painted across their fingers upon first touch. A soulmate he knew he’d never be allowed to have ever since he was a child. Not when he had a duty to his family. He shook his head and dropped the flower on the floor. There was no use in reviving such childhood fantasies when he had a hand-fast to prepare for.

~~~

Dick paced the empty hallway as he waited for the cue to enter. His gloved hands trembled every time he fiddled with the vibrant blue ribbon tied around his wrist. Soon, the glove would come off, the ribbon would be tied to another, and Dick would have to face an entire court of people as he bound himself to a man he already couldn’t stand. No matter how intense his eyes or how pretty his face, Dick continued to steam over their bitter argument earlier. Donna’s teasing after didn’t help either. He couldn’t help feeling broken-hearted at this turn of events. Even if Jason wasn’t keen on the marriage, he had hoped they could at least become friends. Perhaps even more, as the years passed. However, the foreign prince smashed all hopes of that possibility in one conversation, it seemed.

Despite the fact that most soul bonds grow overtime between two people after their first intimate touch of hands, a bond that springs into existence abruptly is idealized in fairy tales and myths of old. That’s what people expect when the gloves come off and Dick knows he’ll only disappoint now. He unconsciously rubs his left ring finger with each step down the hall. That’s where one would form, if it were to happen. A tattoo of flowering vines that spreads to decorate fingers, hands, even whole arms depending on the strength of a bond. He’d only seen the latter happen once and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Back when Dick was in the circus, performing with his parents every night, he used to watch in awe as they caught each other with their bare hands. He’d memorized every twist, loop, and swirl of their vines and dreamed of a love like theirs. 

To bare one’s hands to another is to open one’s self to a bond, which is why gloves are a staple among the people of the world. Especially the aristocracy, who preferred their children marry within their class, as opposed to risk a bond forming between them and those they find “beneath them.” Bonds can’t form from nothing, but that’s all Dick felt he had with Jason at this point and he feared the day their sham of a marriage would fall apart because one or the other found a true mate instead.

 _So much for avoiding war, Bruce_ , he thinks bitterly as he feels the crunch of something under his boot.

Glancing down, Dick delicately picks up the remains of one of the most beautiful flowers he’d ever seen. The alluring deep purple gave him the sense of peace he’d been craving all evening as he waited. There was a knock at the door, his signal to enter, and Dick stuffed the flower into his pocket for later. Perhaps his fiancé could tell him what type of flower it was. Give them something to talk about later.

With the ridiculous thought lingering in his head, Dick breathed deeply and pushed the doors open.

~~~

The prince was beautiful as he walked down the aisle. He wore the standard blue and black military dress for his station, trimmed in yellow to signify his status as crown prince, but Jason couldn’t help but notice that the shade of blue perfectly matched his fiancé’s eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, Prince Richard was one of the most gorgeous creatures he’d ever laid eyes on. How frustrating to know he’s as much of an asshole as Jason feared he’d be.

Instead of lingering on these complicated emotions, he watched with feigned boredom as everyone in attendance drooled over the “Golden Boy.” Even the priest gave an appreciative once-over upon Dick’s arrival next to Jason. He clenched his gloved fist only to wince at the feel of his ceremonial red ribbon as it tugged against his wrist. God this was really happening.

Choosing to stare at the colorful display of flowers behind the altar, it took every ounce of will power for Jason to keep his breathing steady as the priest droned on about “love” and “faithfulness” as if everyone here didn’t already know the truth. This union is one of duty not love. If this peace fails, war is inevitable. And in a secret dark part of his heart, Jason almost wished for war. For peace to fail. He knew he could protect himself and his family better with a sword than with a diplomatic arrangement.

He side-eyed Dick who seemed ready to run rather than go through with this sham too. All he knew of the man came from eye-witness accounts on the battlefield and spies within Gotham, but he still felt like a wild card. Conflicting reports stated he was a “frivolous show off” among his people with overzealous acts of affection for the commoners, while soldiers insist the strategic “Nightwing” who leads his warriors into battle can outwit any commander he faces. Who was the real man? And could Jason ever learn to trust him?

“And now we must tie the ceremonial cords together to signify that his royal highness Prince Richard of House Wayne and his royal highness Prince Jason of House al Ghul enter into this pact to be one.” The priest caught Jason off guard as he reached for his wrist.

He stiffened but stopped himself from jerking back on reflex. Upon catching Dick’s nervous eyes, he noticed the man glance down to where Jason’s free hand now gripped his sword handle. Rather than respond to the raised eyebrow, he chose to watch as the priest carefully knotted the blue and red ribbons loosely.

“As is tradition, before the tie is complete I ask both royal highnesses to please remove your left-hand gloves.” The crowd hushed in anticipation. This was what most of them were here for. To see if these two royals were fated to fulfill this union as soulmates or if they were doomed to suffer for the next year of their betrothal due to incompatibility.

Despite his best efforts, Jason’s hand trembled as he reached for Dick’s equally shaky hand. The world seemed to shrink to just them as the distance between them grew shorter. Dick’s eyes were wide and Jason found it hard to take deep breaths as their fingers brushed. He could feel sweat drip from his brow as their palms met and the world paused.

Nothing. There was nothing. Blank canvases of skin. The air soured with disappointment as even the priest’s shoulders slumped at the anti-climatic moment.

Before Jason could breathe out the tension coiled in his chest, there was an audible gasp as both princes watched the sliver of a curly, green, vine tattoo itself around both their ring fingers. At the tips of their fingers, a purple petal began to blossom and Jason felt a lump form in his throat. He recognized that flower.

Dick shifted uneasily in front of him, free hand brushing his pocket as he stared at the tattoo with complete bafflement. Jason felt equally as stunned. There was no way. They couldn’t possibly. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke.

The audience began whispering frantically as the priest continued to tie the joint ribbon around their hands. The eyes of the room felt stifling with the intense speculation on their apparent bond, which made Jason start to feel trapped. He hadn’t planned for this. He needed to step away and reevaluate the mission now. He was out of his depth and he hated it.

Except for the small part of his heart that rejoiced at being good enough for the darling of the Waynes, the “Golden Boy of Gotham;” at being the soulmate of the man he remembered dreaming about as a young boy.

The priest clapped his hands together to signal the end of the ceremony. “Now as the young couple leads, we shall finish with a feast in the Great Hall courtesy of his royal majesty King Bruce.”

It took a moment for the words to register, but eventually Dick and Jason awkwardly turned, left hands now holding onto each other ( _and wow was it overwhelming to have so much skin-on-skin contact after so many years covered up_ ) as they walked down the aisle together. Once the doors shut behind them, the two were finally alone as they stood in the empty hallway. The rest of the guests were exiting through a separate entrance, so Jason feared no interruptions as the two quietly untangled their ribbons.

Dick refused to look Jason in the eye, his face closed off in a tight grimace, but he didn’t shy away from Jason’s touch when he offered his help. It didn’t take long but he almost wished it had taken longer since he had no idea what to say. What is there to say in a situation like this?

Apparently Dick was going to brave it first. He cleared his throat and whispered, “Do you...uh, do you know what flower this is?”

Jason watched as he dug around in his pocket and gently pulled out a crumpled version of the flower the servant girl ( _Brown was the name, right?_ ) gave him earlier. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony.

He nodded as Dick held the flower up to the tattoo on his finger in comparison. Jason couldn’t help but find that the deep purple complemented his eyes beautifully. “It’s called a _clematis_.”

Surprised by the answer ( _or surprised that he knew the answer,_ ) Dick finally looked up at him and ice teal met ocean blue flames once again. There was that same burning tension in the air between them, but it felt altered now. Like they were on the brink of something. Dick opened his mouth as if to break the silence that descended upon them, but hesitation tainted the moment. Jason could feel it pass as he nodded instead and turned to lead him towards the Great Hall. They had a feast to attend, afterall.

Both their shoulders were stiff as they kept their distance during the walk, but it wasn’t until later, while the couple sat at the head of the table with fake smiles and gracious nods, that he noticed neither one had remembered to put their glove back on.

**Author's Note:**

> The flower I had in mind is technically called a “jackmanii clematis” and they're a very pretty flowering vine
> 
> [The Flower](https://images.app.goo.gl/enuWyU9UkD38nkhQA)


End file.
